


The lady that lost her shoes

by EmelyGinger



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Romance, Sleepy Hollow AU, This is a love story, a 21st century take on cinderela, yeah i'm that cheesy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-12
Packaged: 2018-01-17 22:28:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1404859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmelyGinger/pseuds/EmelyGinger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"A dream is a wish your heart makes<br/>When you're fast asleep<br/>In dreams you lose your heartaches<br/>Whatever you wish for, you keep."</p><p>Abbie Mills was a twenty-five year old Westchester county police officer, she also worked on her sister's shoe/freelance artifact acquisition shop on her free time, and after a bad breakup all she needs is for everyone to get out of her business (and her sister to get in less trouble). And maybe a very VERY good lay.</p><p>Ichabob Crane was smart, handsome and Ritchy rich famous, after years of random hookups he feels like it's finally time to give his parents heirs - and grandchildren they could spoil rotten - and himself a family. He just wanted more.<br/>What he didn't know was that "more" entailed a petite spitfire with access to a 9 mm.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. At the stroke of midnight (She lost both shoes)

**Author's Note:**

> After finally FINALLY, having the time to watch Sleepy Hollow from beginning to end, i here by declare that i'm a complete Ichabbie ship fan girl! Those two are just...PERFECT. Of course my little muse was greatly inspired, so although this is the first, it will definitely not be the last fanfic i make for the fandom. 
> 
> *DISCLAIMER* THIS PART IS SERIOUSLY IMPORTANT SO READ IT! i MEAN IT. READ IT. NOW.  
> The characters or the series do not belong to me blá, blá, blá but the MOST IMPORTANT is that this work on itself is not a completely original idea. It's the remix of a novel by the author Lena Matthews.  
> In no instant is my intent to plagiarize her work, i just really like the novel, and i'm doing this to satisfy my selfish fan girl needs - because i just think Ichabob and Abbie fit so well in there.  
> That said, some of the parts of this fanfic will be identical to the novel, others not so much, if you have a problem with it, DO. NOT. READ.  
> Jeez i never did a disclaimer that long xD
> 
> Now for all of you that stayed, i hope you enjoy it. Happy readings!

 

**At the stroke of midnight (She lost both her shoes)**

 

If Abigail Mills had to look at another crusty heel today, she thought she might heave. Normally, she wouldn’t mind helping out at her sister’s shop (after years of unspoken distance they finally seemed to be on the right track), but today she felt as if she’d seen every bunion in the country. Was pedicure such a novelty?

“Will there be anything else?” The tight smile she forced across her face must have spoken volumes to the woman, who quickly shook her head, and picked up her shoes to head to the counter.

Abbie watched her retreat with a small twinge of regret. She was a bit of a spit fire, as a female Lt. in Westchester County she had to be, but never would she be intentionally rude. And to think that Corbin had talked her into two months of paid vacation so she could clear up her mind, the piles of paperwork were looking more appealing by the minute, all she wanted to do was zone out.

Mustering the last bit of goodwill she could find, tender muscles crying out in pain, she finalized the purchase and watched as the last costumer of the day walked off. The Glass Slipper was officially closed. Seven o’clock had never looked so beautiful before.

The only reason she was there in the first place was because Jenny had asked her to look after the store for a couple days; she had some _business_ outside the country-  Abbie learned a long time ago not to ask- she’d though it would do her good so she accepted. Her house was too quiet and she just wished that for once she didn’t have to deal with all the bullshit, then again, if wishes were horses –

_Bang! Bang! Bag!_

Startled, Abbie jumped and glanced around. For a second she regretted not bringing her gun, there was someone there, but with the blinds pulled down she couldn’t tell who it was.

“We’re closed,” she yelled out, scanning the room for something sturdy.

“Just so you know, there’s a 9mm under the counter.”

Well _damn_ , the condescending tone gave the person’s identity away. Sighing, she opened the door and walked back to the counter, she should have expected that from her sister.

“How many times do I have to tell you it’s _illegal_ to have police issued fire arms, _especially_ in the quantity that you do?” Abbie patted the underside of the counter.

Jenny snorted as she leaned against the door “You seriously think I’d tell you where it is?”

“Jennifer Mills you’re incorrigible.” Abbie groaned as she got up again, knees popping, only to give her sister a questioning look.

“What?” Jen was looking every bit of the lady Abbie sometimes doubted she was, gone were the usual jeans and t-shirt combo, her legs looking miles long in a black form-fitting after-five dress, hair falling in pretty curls over her shoulders and gold sequin pumps glittering on her feet.

“Should I even ask?”

“I’m having a little business transaction tonight; I thought I should look the part.”

“Well you look good.” Abbie gave her a soft smile.

“Don’t I know it.” And she regretted it the same second, no need to boost her sister’s ego “Anyways you’re –“

“One sec,” Abbie said as she picked up her phone “Hello.”

“What are we doing tonight?”

Andy’s voice was like ice on her bruised feet, if there was anything close to a best friend in her life he was it, the guy stuck with her even when she was on the down low.

“I don’t know what are we doing tonight, but I know what I’m doing, and it involves a bed, cotton sheets, and a headscarf.”

“As stimulating as that sounds, I’m afraid I’m going to have to break your heart, because you’re going out tonight,” surprisingly enough her sister was shaking her head negatively too “even if I have to pull your fine behind kicking and screaming all the way.”

“Is that lover boy?” Jenny was quick to snatch the phone, “I’m sure you had some pretty awesome plans, not, but I have some business to take care of and my sister was just about to agree that you two should be my backup.” She said to him, and from where she was standing Abbie could hear him losing his mind.

It took 15 minutes, the majority of which Jennifer spent guilt tripping him into it, but surprisingly enough she managed to get Brooks on board, ending the call with a satisfied grin. She didn’t even bother to ask her sister, she probably already had this planed for weeks, and as she sashayed out of the store Abbie couldn’t stop herself from shaking her head.

 

* * *

 

This was not how Ichabod Crane had pictured the night starting or being at all, for that matter. When a college mate had called him with a business proposition, he’d thought, sure, a nightclub would be a wonderful way to invest some money. Especially when the decision was made that it would be located close to the small town of Sleepy Hollow, contrary to popular belief the place was peppered with famous people, it would definitely be a step away from the Hollywood scene.

Good God, what had he been thinking? It was becoming increasingly clear he didn’t have the slightest clue what partying consisted these days. The exact moment he apparently morphed into his father wasn’t exactly clear, but nevertheless, it happened.

So instead of being on the crowded dance floor, groping and grinding, he was standing in the VIP balcony - wishing he’d stayed at home and merely wrote a check instead of demanding to be more than a silent partner – thinking that silence would feel so bad.

The crowded club and the overpowering scent of desperation leaking from the pores of half dressed women and over dressed men reminded him why he’d stopped going to meat markets such as this in the first place. That and the fact everyone he met these days wanted something from him.

In the early years of his career he’d bedded countless women, but predictably enough he’d grown tired of it – the countless encounters not the sex – he was tired of the game, wanted something more, even if he didn’t know what _more_ entailed.

He glanced once again over the balcony, even in the enclosed space the loud music still somehow managed to step into the room; it wasn’t as deafening as on the dance floor but the steady thump was still mind-numbing. When had he started thinking that loud music was disturbing to him? Not that the pounding mix of the same song, being played at different speeds, could be considered music.

He needed a drink. Then a good kick in the ass. Maybe not even in that order. With a disgusted snort, he headed out of the room and almost collided with the bouncer standing on the steps leading to the dance floor. Surprisingly, the bulky man wasn’t alone.

He was in the midst of a face-off with a very attractive, yet tired looking African American lady. In spite of her club attire, which consisted of a form-fitting black dress with leather applications, she seemed a bit different than the other women. For one, the man-hungry look was nowhere to be found in her big brown eyes, just a hint of boredom and annoyance. Also, even though her clothes were sexy, they weren’t blatantly exposing, unlike the disturbing amount of cleavages he’d seen through the night.

And in the insulated hallway he could clearly hear the argument at hand.

“I’m not going to tell you again.” Muscle guy had his arms crossed over his massive chest, in what Ichabod assumed was to be an intimidating pose. But from the annoyed look on the woman’s face, pressure was the last thing she was feeling.

“You didn’t have to tell me the first time. All you needed to do was ask. You know, just because you have a dick, doesn’t mean you have to act like one.”

“That’s it. You’re out of here.”

“Eat me.” She spat, left eyebrow sky-high. 

“Bitch.”

“Hey,” Ichabod called out. He didn’t know what exactly had happened, he didn’t care, but that was no way to talk to a lady. “Back down.”

Juice head turned around with a frown, clearly ready for a fight, that was until he recognized who was speaking, he’s attitude immediately disappeared.

“Sorry, sir, this lady was blocking the stairs.”

“No, this _lady_ was sitting on the stairs, for a moment.”

“It’s a fire hazard, sir.”

“Yes, because if by some off the wall chance this whole thing caught on fire, my big ass sitting on the second to last step was going to be the reason everyone burned up and died. Yeah, right.” And surprisingly enough that eyebrow only seemed to get higher.

“It’s against the law, sir.” And clearly enough the bouncer couldn’t leave the issue alone either, dimwit; he didn’t pay the man to take part in grudge matches.

“No, what should be against the law are the overpriced, watered-down drinks. Whoever owns this place needs their ass kicked.” The little spitfire seemed to be on a row!

“Really?” Ichabod asked clearly amused “Well, as one of the aforementioned owners, should I be worried?”

“Maybe.” By the way the frown subtly faded from her lips she clearly found it amusing too. “Sorry, I didn’t know I was in front of club royalty.”

Suddenly Ichabod felt a lot less bored, a smile finally making its way to his face “Forgiven. Now if you would—“

The spitfire raised her hands, halting his words. She in essence shushed him. A first for Ichabod – he was an order giving type of man – yet instead of being irritated, he was intrigued. Who in the world was she?

“No need to call for reinforcements. As I was telling Schwarzenegger here, I was just resting for a moment. I’ll leave.”

The hell she would.  “I wasn’t going to say that. There’s no need to hurry. In fact, if you feel the need to…rest a bit more we can go back upstairs.”

“We?”She tilted her head to the side and that eyebrow was back up again. “And why would I go anywhere with a complete stranger? I don’t know you. You could be crazy.”

The bouncer snorted and shook his head, much the way Ichabod wanted to. A complete stranger, Wow. He didn’t want to toot his own horn, but he’d been in more magazine covers than some of the movie stars he produced films for, he was called ‘Prince of Hollywood’ yet from the disinterested way she was watching, he was willing to bet that even if she knew all of it she wouldn’t care.

How refreshing.

“True, but there’s a couch and all the free overpriced drinks you can get. Plus, it’ll annoy the hell out of him.” This time a smile broke free, turning her pretty free beautiful. Damn “I can promise you I’m not crazy, but then again, I crazy person would say the same.”

“So true.”

“Then again what do you have to lose?”

“Only my life.”

“There’s that. But I promise not to kill you.” When she still didn’t look convinced, Ichabod took his hand from his pocket and raise it in the air, with his index and middle finger pointed up. “Scout’s honor.”

“When you put it that way, it’s almost impossible to resist.” She smiled.

“Almost?” He wandered what he’d have to do to make the offer irresistible.

“Yes. Almost.”

“Hmm…Almost means there’s something I can do to convince you.”

“There are two things.”

“I’m listening.”

“The door stays open at all times.”

“Deal.”

“I text my friend to let him know where I am, and he’s allowed to come up at any time.”

He…Ichabod didn’t like the sound of a _he,_ but she did say friend “Deal.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

Her eyes widened in surprise before switching to amusement “This club may not suck so much after all.”

“Isn’t that lovely?” Ichabod walked up to the VIP room and pushed the door all the way open for her “Maybe we’ll put that on the napkins and billboards.”

Laughing, she walked past him, a pleasant flowery scent following after her.  The night was looking up already.

 

* * *

 

To everyone she knew Abbie had always been the responsible one. Early on she stumbled into the fact that the duty of taking care of her family came first, even to her own self. While most of her friends were off clubbing, she could always be found working late, or taking care of family issues.

That said, it came as a surprise even to her own little self that she was accompanying a strange man into the private VIP room. And there was something to be said about Mr. VIP. When she’d been arguing with Schwarzenegger Abbie hadn’t really paid much mind to the interloper, but as soon as he interrupted, all her attention was on him. And rightly so.

Dressed all in black, he loomed over the bouncer and certainly over her by several inches, his brown shoulder-length hair softly framed his boyish face. And she would easily admit it’d been a long time since someone’s smile left her that mesmerized.

As they entered the VIP room, Abbie looked around the posh surroundings, duly impressed. But she had to admit, the isolation provided a pleasant ‘almost silence’, and the leather couches looked _so_ plush.

“Why don’t you have a seat and I’ll get us some drinks?”

“Sounds great, I’ll have a diet soda in an unopened can, please.” Abbie collapsed onto the couch, stroking the soft material, and ever so discreetly slipping off her shoes. Although gorgeous, those babies were feet assassins.

“Unopened can?”

“Yes, no offence meant, I still don’t know you and anyone worth their salt should know better.” Unfortunately she’d seen one too many cases, it could happen anywhere, any time and worse than the act was its results.

“No offense taken. In fact…” his voice became muffled for a bit as he bent over to open the mini fridge, “… very wise.”

When he walked back to her, handing her one of the sodas, he let his hand extended.

“I’m Ichabod Crane.”

 She took his hand in hers “Abbie. Nice to meet you.”

His eyes danced with amusement as they shook hands. “Just Abbie?”

“Yes.” The answer was certainly final, but the glint in her eyes made it clear, if he fought enough he could get there.

“So, Ms Abbie,” Crane sat on the far side of the couch, opening his can, and the fact he didn’t plop right next to her – didn’t try to get all up on her face – impressed her “tell me what you really think of our club?”

Before she could answer, he interjected. “I mean aside from the watered-down, over-priced drinks and the exuberant bouncer, that is.”

“To be honest—“

“Were you going to lie?”

A smart ass. She was in love. “I was thinking about it.”

“Then I’m glad you changed your mind.”

“No problem.” She smiled. “I’m probably the last person to ask such a question.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m not much of a club goer. I know my presence here is a bit misleading on the matter.”

“Actually it isn’t.” Ichabod set his drink on the floor next to him. “You seem a bit…”

“Out of place?”

“No, it’s hard to explain.” He said.

“Try.”

“It’s like being in a room full of wildflowers then spotting a rare orchid, blooming t the edge.” As if embarrassed by is wording, he added, “Then imagine the orchid making a three hundred pound bear fear for his life.”

“He wasn’t scared.” The way the line was delivered, made her certain that that he was a true player, but somehow she found herself foolishly amused by it. The accent helped.

“He was minutes away from surrendering. You had him scared.”

“Who’s the liar now?”

“Would I lie to you?” The teasing tone was gone, replaced by a heavier, deeper pitch. Undeniably sensual.

“I don’t know.”

“Would you like to find out?”

The cerulean blue of his eyes left her stuck to her sit, it was like something tied her stomach, it was strangely dazing in a way that she really didn’t want to think about. It was becoming evident that Abigail Mills needed to get laid.

“I haven’t made up my mind yet.”

“Let me know when you do.”

“Do you always move this fast?” She said, leaning further into the couch.

“This seems fast to you?”

“Speed of light fast.” She answered sincerely.

“Damn I’m good.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it.” Oh now she was asking for it.

“No, you don’t.”

“Really? You have references?” She smirked onto the rim of her soda can before taking a sip.

“No. You can judge by yourself.”

“Hello. Speed of light.” Abbie flexed her toes against the carpet, stretching the ligaments in her feet. “You’re bad.”

“I was just answering your question.” Indeed he was, and something in her loved it, the way he could keep up with her banter.

“What am I going to do with you?”  His smile grew wider. “That was a rhetorical question.”

“I didn’t say a word! I was good.” It was funny how is accent seemed ticker when he was indignant. Then he glanced at her feet and frowned.

“What?”Abbie glanced down too.

“Are your feet hurting?”

“A little.” She was used to using high heels, she was petit so sometimes she couldn’t afford not to use them, but that didn’t mean they hurt any less.

“Put your feet up here and I’ll massage them for you.”

“Uh. No.”

“Why? And if you say it’s because you don’t know me, we’re going to have words.  I’m offering to rub them, with my hands, not my tongue.”

“That’s good to know, but still..”

“For Pete’s sake, woman!” Crane moved to the floor and picked her right foot, much to her surprise, placing the ball of his thumb against her arch and moving it in a circular motion.

Before she could help it a long moan escaped her lips, her whole body melted, her head dropping back. “Oh God.”

“That’s right,” he tease, adding more pressure “Who’s the man?”

“You are.”

“Who has the best hands in the world?” If she hadn’t closed her eyes she’d have seen the Cheshire grin crawling into his face.

“You do.”

“And who are you going to reward with a kiss?”

Without hesitation, she answered “You.”

“Damn straight.”

Well damn, she’d met her match.

 

* * *

 

 

 _If his mates could see him now_. None of them would be surprised to see him alone in a room with a sexy lady like Abbie, the shock would be from seeing him on his knees- the roles were normally reversed. But something about the way she moaned under his touch told him she wasn’t pampered often.

Surely he couldn’t understand why – from the little time they’d spent together, he was ready to shower her with rose petals – he wanted to get to know her better.

“Mmmm.” Abbie opened her eyes and smiled down at him. She looked all kinds of relaxed. Her sable, shoulder length hair was tousled a bit from when she laid it back against the couch, giving her a sexy look. It was almost as if she had just climbed out of bed. From his bed. “Can I keep you?”

Even though the remark was a teasing one, he couldn’t help but be encouraged by the implication. “I should warn you, I’m not house broken.”

“I know how to roll up a newspaper.”

“That sounds an awful lot like S&M.”

Laughing, Abbie pulled her foot away and sat up. “You’re too much.”

Ichabod frowned. He felt the loss of her touch instantly, _strange_ , this didn’t feel like ordinary attraction…more like obsession. The train of thought made him slightly uncomfortable, it wasn’t the kind of stuff one should been thinking so quickly, he needed a drink.

A real one.

“Would you like another drink?”

“I still have my soda.”

“I meant a real drink.” Turning he flashed his must disarming smile. The one that charmed nuns and suspicious mothers alike, it was a mask of the highest quality and unlucky for him, she saw right through it.

“No, thank you.”

“Still don’t trust me?”

“I still don’t know you.”

Ichabod turned away and made himself a bourbon and coke, all the while thinking how her words didn’t sit right with him, with his drink in hand he made his way back to the couch, this time sitting a little closer.

“What would you like to know? Ask away. My life is an open book.” Thanks to the paparazzi. “If you ask, I’ll answer.”

“Really?” Surprise made her features twist cutely and he watched as she tucked her legs underneath her, black dress rising and teasing him with a sexy flash of brown flesh, his palms tingling to touch her.

“Yes. What would you want to know?” He braced himself for an onslaught of questions about his job and income. When he’d given her his name earlier, she didn’t respond, so either she was the best actress on the face of the earth or she didn’t have a clue.

“You asked me earlier what I thought of your clubs, why don’t you tell me what you think of it.”

The question took him back a bit. Ichabod hadn’t been expecting that. “Umm…”

“Is that a no-no?”

“Not at all it’s just surprising.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. I was expecting something along the lines of materialistic stuff.”

She rolled her expressive eyes, “Please, I mean it’s obvious you must have some money, you do own a club. But that’s not what I want to know.”

“Part of a club and to be honest not a very big part.”

“Either way, it’s your business, not mine. Besides, knowing what kind of car you drive won’t tell me anything about you, except where you shop. It’s you who are when no one’s around that matters the most.”

 “Who are you?” She was refreshing, in an almost scary way, it amazed him.

“I’m Abbie, the lady asking the questions.” She said, laughing lightly.

Either his life had become overly jaded or he needed to get out more. He’d forgotten women like Abbie existed. Mentally shaking his head, he thought about her question.

“I’m sure it’s a good investment, but I’m not sure if this is what I want to do for the rest of my life.

“What do you want to do for the rest of your life?”

“I have no idea. I have a great job now but it’s getting old. Or I am.”

“You, old? I doubt that. How old are you gramps.”

“Thirty-five. You?”

“Twenty-five.”

“Aww…you’re a baby.”

“Whatever, old man.” She tsked. “You seem to have accomplished a lot at such an early age. Your parents must be proud.”

“Proud isn’t exactly the word I’d use.”

“Why not?” That made her frown.

“I could make money hand over fist, but until I deliver upon my parents’ steps a dutiful wife and a strapping young heir, they’ll never be pleased. My father wishes for a namesake and my mother wants a grandchild to brag about over tea at the Country Club.”

“Do they beat you?”

Her comment startled him. “ No.”

“Are they evil drunks who touched your little boy places when no one was looking?”

“No.” She really as too much.

“Then it could be worse.” She said with a smile and a shrug of her shoulders.

“Well, when you put it like that…” He laughed. “What about your parents?”

Her smile dimmed, mouth opening but words failing to come out for a second, before she opted to go with it. “My mother died when we were young and my father skipped town the moment he heard she’d gotten pregnant.”

“I’m sorry to hear that…”

“No need to be sorry, it was probably for the best, god knows Corbin is the only person who could deal with us when we were younger.”

“We?”

“Yeah I have a younger sister.”

“So I guess it’s not that bad...?” He took a drink from his glass. To his utter amazement, Abbie held her hand out for his glass, he handed it and watched as she took a sip before giving it back.

“Nope.” She answered with a smile.

“Next question.”

Abbie continued to barrage him with off the wall questions all the while taking sips from his drink. Ichabod stood to refresh the glass at least twice, each time she waited until he took a drink before partaking herself, in the end he decided he liked the interesting little ritual.

He also liked the way she lined up the glass to match almost exactly where his lips been with her own before drinking. It was as intimate as a kiss, sexy even, but not as fun.

For every question she asked, he would ask one of his own, they talked and laughed – spent an evening getting to know each other on a level Ichabod had never been to with another woman- she’d discovered more about him in their time together than a decade worth of interviews by experienced reporters had over the course of his career.

In the midst of a funny story about silly fears, Abbie’s cell rang. It was the first interruption they’d  experienced since entering the room, and it was a very unwelcome one, making her take her eyes from him to reach for her phone in her little black purse.

He watched as she scrolled down the screen her face becoming apprehensive.

“What’s wrong?” He asked worriedly.

“Do you know what time it is?” She asked before taking a call.

He glanced at his watch, it was almost midnight, and they’d been talking for almost two hours. Where had the time gone?

“Okay I’m on my way.” She hung up and stood.

“Is everything okay?”

“No, Jenny ran into some trouble and I need to go before it gets any worse.”

“Who’s Jenny?”

“My sister.” He fought hard not to frown. He thought she’d come with a male friend? Was her sister down there too?

“I’m going with you then.” He wouldn’t let her come in harm’s way if he could help it, but she was quick to deny his help.

“I really need to go Crane.” Mournfully he stepped back, it would do him no good to force her to stay, her sister was surely more important.

“Abigail, wait.” She paused at the door and glanced over her shoulder “I want to see you again.”

His words brought a smile to his pretty face. “You do?”

“Yes.” Thinking quickly, Ichabod grabbed his wallet and pulled out one of his business cards, walking across the room to hand it to her, but he didn’t let go. Instead, he moved in and used his free hand to draw her closer.

She leaned into him and tilted her head back; awaiting the kiss they both knew was a long time in the making. And just as he went to lower his mouth onto hers, her cell phone rang again.

Coursing, he released his hold on her and the card both. “Call me. This evening has been…”

“Yes it was.” Her look of disappointment as she headed out the door was the only salve to his pride. Cleary she regretted the interruption as much as he did.

Ichabod was half way back across the room before he realized he didn’t have any way to contact her, he didn’t even know her full name, but by the time he rushed over to the door Abbie was long gone.

“God damn it.” He muttered infuriated. She’d call he told himself, or he’d turn the city upside down looking for her.

He let himself crumble on the couch, the headache from before coming full force, he was about to swing his legs onto it when his feet bumped into something. Thinking it was one of the drinks, he quickly looked down, ready for the mess on the carpeted floor.

His blue eyes stared long and hard at the shoes on the ground. The little, glittery shiny, black heels that Abbie discarded early on the evening were still there.  She’d run out barefoot?

He frowned for a second and then the ridiculous of the situation punched a laugh out of him. He really hoped she’d call back.

_**TBC** _

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Done with the first chapter!   
> Jesus Christ i can't believe i'm actually posting my first fic for Sleepy Hollow, i hope it's not that bad *crosses fingers*  
> Anyways i'm a bit sick but i'll probably have the next chapter up by the end of the week.


	2. And they say introductions are for ordinary people

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jesus Christ i'm tired, and this chapter is not even close to satisfactory, but since i don't know if i'll have time this weekend i decided to post it for now and then, maybe go back to it later. 
> 
> That said I hope you guys enjoy it ^^

As far as Abbie was concerned, she’d earned her wings to awesome sister heaven. Instead of spending her evening with Crane, who at this very moment could have been talking her into his bed, she was walking barefoot on concrete. Barefoot.

Abbie hadn’t even noticed- the absence of pain and the fact that her sister could be on a thigh spot making her run towards the backdoor- until she stepped onto the private car park. She walked towards Jenny, the cold concrete dirtying her feet, as she grabbed her gun and pulled the safety off.

“Is there something I should know?” Jenny asked casually. As if she wasn’t standing in the middle of a parking lot, gun pointed at three mean looking men.

“That’s my line.” Abbie said matter-of-factly. Her eyes roaming over the gentlemen in front of them, all blond, tall and blue eyed, the one in the middle holding a briefcase. Germans, her brain supplied, Jenny had vaguely explained the transaction taking place but _why were they outside?_

“I’m not the one barefoot.”

“Mind your own business.” Jenny would have answer back but Brooks was running towards them the minute he stepped out of the club.

“What the hell is going on?” His voice was and whole octave higher.

“Calm down Brooks, there’s nothing for you to worry about; I was just about to finish this up.” She clarified before turning back to the men, “Where was I…Oh yeah, the Necklace is fake, I was warned that your employer had a knack for under-payment so I thought, why not replace the most important piece in the collection?”

The man in the middle urgently opened the case, eyes frantic as he tried to confirm the information, “It can’t be you’re trying to fool us.”

“Not at all, two hundred grand is more than enough for everything else on that case, but definitely not the Necklace. You have 72 hours to put the money on the account or I’ll be selling it to someone else.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Andy whispered nervously. It’s not like Abbie knew either.

“Very well then…we’ll keep in contact.” The man said, eyes stormy as he turned around and marched stiffly towards a black SUV, the sigh Andy let out the moment they drove away spoke volumes.

“Stop being such a drama queen Brooks.” Jenny offered, already walking to Abbie’s car.

“I will if you stop being a crazy bitch.” Andy snapped back.

“Who died and gave you their balls?”

Although highly amusing Abbie knew very well how their bickering could escalate, so she was quick to diffuse the situation. “Calm down you two.”

“My momma always said, tell the truth, shame the devil. And your sister needs a whole lot of truth.” Andy muttered as he sprawled over the passenger seat.

“No one asked you or your momma.”

Andy shot Jennifer an aggravated look and the finger, much to Abbie’s amusement. They managed almost ten minutes in silence before her best friend found the need to comment on Abbie’s state of dress.

“Yeah Abbs what happened?” Jenny asked, clearly teaming up with her friend “You disappeared and then you come out barefoot? Who did you get freaky with?”

“Who do you think you’re talking to?” She tried to deflate the subject but they weren’t having any of it.

“Where did you go?”

“To the VIP room.” The look of utter surprise on their faces made her laugh. “You two aren’t the only people I know.”

“Who do you know?” Jenny’s eyebrows arched in curiosity.

“Lots of people.”

“Like?” Andy asked, adding to the nosey bandwagon. He sat upright, eyes burning on her face.

“Like one of the owners.” Abbie trained her eyes on the road harder than necessary.

“Which one?”

“Ichabod.” Just saying the name made Abbie smile. She was a goner.

“Ichabod who?”

“Could you be more in my business?” She turned onto Andy’s street.

“Yes, I could. Now talk. Don’t make me get nasty.” Brooks opened his mouth to say something, but he was stopped by Jenny, who held her hand to silence him. “No comments from the peanut gallery.”

“What do you want to know?” She finally conceded as she came to a stop in front of her partner’s house.

“Everything you know.”

“We don’t need to know everything, but something. Let’s start with what he looks like.” Andy said, almost stumbling through his own words.

“He looks like your average white guy, except there wasn’t anything average about him,” Again she was met with surprised stares. “It’s not that big of a deal. All we did was talk.”

“For two hours—“

“In the VIP room—“Jenny cut in.

“Alone.”Andy finished, his voice as disbelieving as Jenny’s.

“Yes.” Was it so hard to believe?

“Damn, are you sure you are my sister?”

“Moving on, what did you guys talk about?”

Jenny snorted as she leaned back on her seat. “More important, are you going to see him again?”

To appease them both, Abbie decided to answer each question. The first answer was easy. It was the second she was unsure about. “We talked about everything.” She closed her eyes for a few seconds and smiled at the memory, before opening them once more. “He’s funny. Not just the things he says, but the way he says them. He has this little wiggly thing that he does with his fingers when he’s thinking.”

“Figured you’d fall for a weirdo.”Jenny waved her hand dismissively. “then you're going to see him again?”

“Maybe.”

“So did you give him your number?” Abbie’s pained face was enough of a answer. “Email?”

“No. there wasn’t time. Someone had me on redial.”

“No time? You were up there for two hours,” Andy said. “All that talking and you couldn’t rattle off and address?”

“Apparently not.” When he put it that way, it seemed a bit silly. But there was a saving grace. “He gave me his business card.”

“He did?” Jenny smiled. “Hand it over. You can tell a lot about a man by his business card.”

“Really?” Abbie picked her purse off the car floor and opened it. After shuffling through the bag for a few seconds, she pulled his card and handed it over to her sister. “So what does this say about him?”

She was answered with silence.

“What?” Maybe she had been right, maybe he was crazy.

“Do you know…of course you don’t.”

“What the hell is going on?” Andy demanded. Snatching the card from her hand, he read the name and he too became silent.

“What the hell.” Abbie was confused, then a thought raced her mind. “Is he married? Or gay?”

“He’s not gay Abbie.” Andy quickly unlocked his phone. In a matter of minutes she was staring at the online cover of a famous gossip magazine. To her surprise, Crane was staring right back at her.

“Oh my god...” She slumped into her sea. Crane wasn’t gay. He was famous.

“Is it him? Is this the same guy you were with?” Jenny asked.

In the photo, Ichabod’s hair was shorter and his eyes didn’t have the same glow to them as they did earlier that evening, but there was no denying who he was. “One and the same.”

“Ichabod Crane and my sister, maybe you’re not such a lost cause.” Jenny sounded almost as dazed as she felt.

“It’s him, but I still don’t know who he is. Should I?” This only proved she needed to get out more.

“Yes.” Jenny and Andy parroted.

“Is he an actor or something?”

“No Abbs. He’s Hollywood royalty. His dad is a director, his mother was on several nighttime soaps, and he’s a movie producer.” Andy looked at her for a long second before adding. “Did you really have no idea?”

“Not a clue.” Abbie felt like the world’s biggest idiot. “I mean, I knew he wasn’t eating Top Ramen for dinner every night, but I had no idea he was Richie Rich.”

“He could kick Richie Rich’s ass, Abbie.”  Jenny said with a snort, but then surprisingly, sobered up. “Are you going to call him?”

Now that was the million dollar question. “I have no idea.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ichabod was not a happy camper. Standing at his office window, he scowled at the Hollywood sign in the far distance, and pondered, not for the first time, why Abbie had yet to contact him. The question plagued him like no other.

They’d had a good time. Or so he thought. Ichabod could only speak for himself, but the short time he’d spent with her Saturday left him hungry for more. He wanted to get to know her better. He wanted to see her smile again, to hear her laugh. Hell, right now he’d be happy just to find out her last name.

The way she’d rushed off Saturday left a lot of questions unanswered in his mind. He could kick himself for letting Abbie leave without getting her phone number. The worst part was the not knowing. And man there was a lot he didn’t know.

_Damn it all to hell!_ Crane ran his hand through his hair in frustration. If he had to take Sleepy Hollow apart with his bare hands, he would find Abbie. No matter how long it took.

“I take it from your frown your new venture isn’t going as well as you hoped.”

Ichabod glanced toward the open doorway of his office at his best-friend and partner, Abraham Van Brunt, and frowned at the intruding blond. He was already in a bad mood and the last thing he needed was to be poked at by his well-meaning friend. Abraham had been against the club investment from the beginning, now he was waiting for the opportune moment to supply the requisite “I told you so”.

“When did you get back?” Crane asked, ignoring his friend’s question for the moment.

“This morning.” Abraham strolled into the room, and headed straight to the mini fridge in the corner. After extracting a beer, he sat on the black leather chair across his mate’s desk and kicked his feet up on the polished marble desk. Even though He had and office of his own just a few doors down, he spent most of his time in Crane’s. It was easier for him to annoy the other man that way. “But I digress. This meeting isn’t about me in all my splendor, but about you, and that shitty little look on your face. Did your mate screw you over?”

Knowing Abraham as he did, Ichabod was well aware the persistent man wouldn’t leave until he dragged every last detail from him. He was annoying like that.

“No.” Abraham’s grin dimmed a bit. It served him right. “The opening went off without a hitch. The club was packed all weekend long. I’m sure I’ll see a nice return for my investment.”

“Wonderful.”

“Yeah.” Ichabod smirked. “I can see you’re overjoyed for me.”

“I think the bloke is a loser.”

“Yes, I know, but you don’t have to worry. I still like you best.” Ichabod mocked.

Abraham snorted. “As if I care. I’m just looking out for my mate and his bank account.”

“I know, and trust me, I appreciate it.” And he did. Theirs was an equal partnership. Where Ichabod brought in the Hollywood connections and the movie know-how, Abraham was the brains behind their ventures. “But everything went smoothly.”

“Then what’s with the frown?”

“I have some stuff on my mind.”

“Like?”

“Like stuff,” Ichabod repeated. They were man, for Christ’s sake, they didn’t talk about their feelings. “Let it go.”

Saying that to Abraham was akin to waving a scab in front of the fingers of a seven year old. It just encouraged the man to pick. “Then this as to be about a woman.”

“Why do you say that?”

“If it was about anything else you would have already spilled the beans. For some annoying reason you have an outdated moral code when it comes to chicks.”

“Horrible isn’t it?” Ichabod said dryly.

“Yes, it is.” Abraham agreed, missing the sarcasm all together. “Come on, I tell you about the girls I screw.”

“Much to my delight.”

“Exactly. Besides this—“Ichabod’s ringing cell phone halted Abraham’s inquisition.

He answered it without glancing at the number, happy for the interruption. “Speak.”

There was a brief pause followed by a rapid “Arf, Arf.”

“Hello?”

“Ahh, much better.” Abbie’s amused voice filled the line. “I was afraid you were going to have me roll over and play dead next.”

Ichabod went from annoyed to extremely pleased in the space of a heartbeat. “Can you hold on for a sec?”

“If this is a bad time, I can call you back.”

“This isn’t a bad time at all.” As if he was going to give her a chance to run away again. Ichabod placed his hand over the mouthpiece and lowered the phone. Addressing Abraham, he gestured with his head to the door. “Get out.”

Abraham grinned evilly and scooted further down in the chair, as if making himself more comfortable. “Don’t mind me, I’ll wait.”

“You have one choice. You either walk out or I’ll throw you out. Head first.” Even though Abraham had more muscle, Ichabod would have followed through on his threat.

Instead of infuriating the man, his words seemed to amuse him. “It’s like that, is it?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll go, but only because you asked so nicely.” He stood and set his bear on the desk. “But I’ll be back for the goods.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Shut the door behind you.”

“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Abraham teased, closing the door as the other man had requested.

_Annoying prick_. Ichabod sat down and took his hand away from the phone. “Playing hard to get, were you?”

“Me?”

“Yes you. Why did you wait so long to call?”

“To be honest, I wasn’t sure if I could call or not.”

“Why?”

“I wasn’t sure exactly how I was supposed to go about addressing royalty.”

“Ahh.” Ichabod smiled. So much for anonymity. “I see you found out.”

Abbie didn’t say anything for a few seconds, but when she did, her voice was far less friendly. “You should have told me who you were.”

Crane’s smile slid away. “I did.”

“I think I would have remembered if you did.”

“I told you my name, Abbie.”

“Come on, you knew I had no idea who you were.” She said impatiently.

“I did,” He admitted, unashamed. “And let me tell you how refreshing it was. How refreshing it is. I thought it didn’t matter.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“But it does.”

“A little.” She said softly.

That was not what he wanted to hear. “Why?”

“For many reasons.”

“Give me one.” Crane wasn’t walking away without a damn good fight.

“We don’t have anything in common.”

“We did the other night.” He reminded her.

“That was before I knew who you were.”

Sighing, Ichabod stood and walked over to the window. This is why he didn’t press the issue of his identity the other night. He knew, to the core of him, if he told her who he was and what he did, she would have bailed. “I’m the same person.”

He turned his back to the Hollywood sign and leaned against the window. It was a telling gesture, in more ways than one. “Come on, one date. You and me. Just like before. No titles, no interruptions, no bullshit.”

“That’s a lot of nos.”

“I was hoping if we get all the nos out of the way now, there wouldn’t be any tomorrow night.”

“Are you that used to getting your way?” The laughter was back in her voice.

“Yes.”

“I can tell.”

“One date.” Crane didn’t know how to quit. “Tomorrow night.”

“I’m helping out my sister.”

“Then Saturday night,” He persisted.

“I shouldn’t say yes.”

He had her. “But you’re going to.”

“Aren’t you worried I might be going out with you now because I know who you are?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because you wanted me the first night. Not the title, but me.”

“Just a tad bit cocky.”

Crane walked back to his desk and sat back in his chair. He fumbled around his desk until he found an ink pen and his address book. “Give me your address. And I’ll pick you up.”

“No, I’ll meet you somewhere.”

“Meet me?”

“Yes. I don’t know you well enough to give you my address.”

Ichabod dropped his pen and leaned back on his chair. At first he was impressed with how cautious she was. Now that it was working against him, he was annoyed. “That excuse is going to get old fast.”

“But it’s not old now, so it’s good enough for me.”

“We’ll play it your way, for now. Where do you want to meet?” If Abbie still felt as If she needed a safety net, he was happy to provide it. Sooner or later she’d have to open her eyes and see how serious he was, he wanted her, and he wasn’t planning on letting go.

 

* * *

 

 

“You have to open the store for me today.”

“I don’t have to do anything but stay black and die.” Abbie continued loading the dishwasher as her sister’s voice echoed from her phone.

“You don’t have to, but I need you to open the store for me today.”

“Sorry, I can’t. I have other plans.”

“Liar.”

“You’re right I’m lying.” She finished straightening the kitchen.

“It’s just for a little while, I have to head to the cabin with Corbin for a bit, I’ll be back quick.”

“Are we still having breakfast at the diner?” Meals on the local diner were almost a tradition in their patched-up family; it was there that Corbin had finally gotten through to the two girls, it was there that they celebrated their graduations, their first jobs, whatever there was that they could accomplish in their lives. The good and the bad.

“Always, meet you there in ten?”

“Sure.”Abbie slipped into her jacked as she opened the door, completely distracted with the phone, she almost crashed with the man standing there.

“Morales?” She frowned the moment his eyes met hers.

“Abbie we need to talk.” He stated, body leaning forward as if wanting to move inside, but she was quick to close the door behind her.

“No we don’t Luke, I thought I’d made it clear the last time.”She locked the door and walked away from him.

“Please Abbie.” _Please? Please?_

“What?” She stopped on the middle of the street and trained him with the coldest gaze she could muster.

“I am sorry you know? I am, I should have never mixed things, but I only did that because I wanted you safe.”

“Is that all?” she shifted on her feet. “I have somewhere else to be.”

“Where?”

She snorted. She didn’t have the time for this. Any longer and her desert would be soup.

 

* * *

 

 

This was ridiculous. Ichabod released a heavy sigh and for what seemed to be the millionth time, walked to the door of the restaurant and peered into the dimly lit street. It was five minutes past the hour. Where was she? Better question, what the hell was wrong with him? Anyone would think from the way he was acting he’d never been on a date before.

For the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why he was anxious. On the same note though, what drew him to Abbie was just as baffling. She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, he lived in Hollywood for Pete’s sake. But there was just something about her he couldn’t get out of his mind.

He needed a drink. He needed to sit down. Hell, he needed to get laid. He needed her under him, writhing, meeting him stroke for stroke, moaning, panting, just her.

“Christ.” Frustrated, he turned his back on the door and ran his fingers through his hair. He needed to get a hold of himself before he attacked her the second she entered the restaurant.

It was just a date. A simple little da—

“Hello, stranger.”

And just like that, his tension eased. His mouth curved in an unconscious smile as he turned around. “Hello.”

She’d been worth the wait. In a word, she was beautiful. No wonder he’d been obsessing all week long. His gaze raked boldly over her as he took in her enticing appearance. She was wearing a simple yet elegant black knee length dress, that showcased her legs and ample curves to a T. Sexy and sophisticated, two of his favorite qualities in one tempting little package. Life didn’t get any better.

With an apologetic smile, she walked to his side. “Sorry I’m late. Traffic was heavier than usual. Were you waiting long?”

“No. I just arrived a bit ago.” He lied huskily. “You look lovely.”

“Thank you.” The sweet coco butter scented fragrance she wore danced through his head, as she ran her gaze down his body and brushed her fingers across his lapel. “You look wonderful as well.”

“Thank you.” Unable to help himself, Ichabod brought his hand up and covered her own, connecting her to him once and for all.

Startled, Abbie raised her head and her warm gaze met his. The rest of the world seemingly fell away as they stared into one another’s eyes. Why were they here?

Enough was enough. “Come here.” He ordered, sliding his hand down her arm and around her back. With a gentle pull he brought her into his arms and lowered his mouth upon hers. Her lips parted and he drank in her gasp. To his delight she kissed back, fierce and hungry. Their bodies melding into one.

If it wasn’t for the sound of someone clearing their throat loudly, Ichabod would have been contented to never stop. Reluctantly he pulled back and stared into her passion filled eyes. Her breathing was rough and halting.

It was gratifying to know she reacted to him just as strongly as he did. This woman was completely under his skin. And damn it, he still didn’t know her last name, but that was going to change, stepping away he held out his hand.

“Hello.”

“Hi.” Her brows furrowed as if in confusion.

“I’m Ichabod Crane, English-born. Movie producer, night club owner.” He’d be damned if she accused him of holding anything back. “And you are?”

With an understanding smile, she took his hand into hers. “ Abigail Mills, Westchester County PD Detective/ part-timer at my sister’s shoe shop, also known as Abbie to my friends.”

“Are we friends?”he asked, her hand still clasped in his.

She gave a shaky little laugh. “I hope so.”

“So do I.”

“Sir,” a voice called from behind him. “Your table is ready.”

“Nice to meet you, Ms Mills.” Crane released her hand and placed his on her lower back– he was almost distracted again when his hand met warm naked skin, this lady wanted to give him a _heart attack_ , the zipper going all the way down wasn’t helping to keep his thoughts clean at all – with a nod of his head he called the maître d.

The restaurant was dimly lit, the ambience was perfect for seduction, but exactly who would be the seducer he wasn’t sure. When they arrived at their table, Ichabod waved the waiter away from her seat and held out her chair for her and when it came time for him to seat down he moved his chair, so they would be side by side.

“Much better.”

“I agree.”

After receiving her permission, he ordered for both of them and requested a bottle of chardonnay before sending their waiter on his way. The young man quickly returned with the chilled bottle, pouring them each a glass. When he finally scurried off, Ichabod turned his attention back to Abbie who was watching him with a look akin to amusement.

“Well, well, well. Do you always command service like this?” She asked, slowly swirling the wine around her glass.

“Usually.”

“Then you need to come with me to the dry cleaners. I can’t get any respect there.”

“Say the word and I’m there.” At this point he was willing to do whatever she wanted, leap tall buildings even.

“Really, are you just going to hop in your car and race up here to fix my problem?”

“If you’d like.”

“Hmmm…I might have to take you up on that.”

“You go right ahead.”

“I will.”

Ichabod felt like a gauche schoolboy, making small talk with her. He never had problems letting a woman know when he was interested, but tonight he seemed like a fumbling idiot.

“Have I told you how lovely you look?”

“Yes, right before you kissed me.”

“Are you complaining?”

“Just answering your question,” She smiled seductively.

“Well, here’s another question for you. Is your cell phone off?”

“No, why?” She frowned in confusion.

“Because I don’t want to chance you running off again, I let you escape once, I won’t make that mistake again.”

“I’m here aren’t I?”The coy smile dusting her lips was undeniable.

“Yes, but just think where you could have been if you hadn’t left.” Taking her free hand in his, he rubbed his thumb over the soft skin of her wrist. He could hear her breath catch at the caress.

“And where is that?”

“My bed.”

“The night is still young.”

“Is that a promise?” He certainly hoped so.

“No,” she laughed “ I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

“Then keep it.” His fingers glided along her arm and he watched her body react to his touch.

“What am I going to do with you?”

“I can think of many things.”

“Feel free to share?”

“I don’t think you’re ready for that just yet.”

“Then think again.” Her teasing words had an arousing effect on him. Suddenly she was no longer a passive party in this subtle game of flirtation. She was a full-out accomplice.

Last Saturday hadn’t been a fluke. There was something between them, so much stronger than simple desire.

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's freaking 5am!! Anyways final word of the chapter. I don't know if anyone noticed, probably not, i don't know, but both the dresses Abbie is wearing on her date and 'not-really- but- actually- almost- date' with Crane are dresses Nicole Beharie wore :D ( http://www.stylebistro.com/lookbook/Nicole+Beharie/c0uKD7jCaHL) and here is the one on the first chapter (http://blog.newscom.com/blog/2013/10/10/celebrity-picture-profile-nicole-beharie/)
> 
> Any who, tell me what you guys think, your love is very much appreciated on this side. Thank you <3


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